


A Merry Sherlolly Christmas - Christmas Time is Here

by Sherlockian_87



Series: A Merry Sherlolly Christmas [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Song, Established Sherlolly, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy, Parent!lock, SMUTTY SMUT, Smut, a hint of mythea, and SMUT, but not old old, older Sherlolly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2830169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlockian_87/pseuds/Sherlockian_87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas with the Holmes’ :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Merry Sherlolly Christmas - Christmas Time is Here

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s the last one! Number 12!! Fluffy parent!lock with a smidgen of Sherlock’s Mum and Dad and some Mythea thrown in. This turns smutty and I didn’t originally intend it to, whoops!

 

* * *

 _Snowflakes in the air_  
_Carols everywhere_  
_Olden times and ancient rhymes_  
_Of love and dreams to share_

 _Sleigh bells in the air_  
_Beauty everywhere_  
_Yuletide by the fireside_  
_And joyful memories there_

 _Christmas time is here_  
_Families drawing near_  
_Oh, that we could always see_  
_Such spirit through the year_

* * *

Music was playing softly; the only light in the room coming from the decorated tree and the glow of the fire. Sherlock and Molly were curled up together on his parent's sofa. Sherlock had Molly's hand clasped in his, their fingers laced together, his thumb brushing over her wedding ring. She let out a happy sigh and snuggled further up against him, her eyes falling closed. He laid his cheek upon the top of her head.

"Sherlock …," her voice was no more than a whisper.

"Mmm?"

"Did you ever imagine this, any of this?"

He chuckled slightly, the sound rumbling in his chest beneath her ear. "No. I never imagined anything quite like this."

"Did you imagine anything at all?"

"No … I only hoped."

She tilted her head back; her eyes now open as she gazed up at her husband. "Are you happy?"

He released her hand and brought it up to cradle the side of her face, his fingertips brushing over her cheek. "More than I ever believed I would be."

They shared a gentle kiss, but just as it was beginning to deepen the sound of approaching footsteps forced them to pull apart. Sherlock's mother entered the room, looking slightly regretful.

"Grandma and Grandpa won't cut it tonight, they keep asking for mummy and daddy," she told them.

Molly smiled as she stood up, and Sherlock followed her. They made their way upstairs to his bedroom. As they walked down the hall and passed Mycroft's bedroom, Molly's smile widened when she caught a glimpse of Mycroft and Anthea sat upon the bed with their son between them, reading him a story. Glancing back at Sherlock, she suppressed a giggle when she saw the look of shock upon his face. She took his hand and gave it a tug towards his room.

"Must delete that image as soon as possible," he was muttering beneath his breath.

"Sherlock don't, it was sweet."

He grimaced. "Sweet and Mycroft do not go together. Unless it is in reference to his love for cake."

She rolled her eyes, biting back her comment as they stepped into his bedroom and closed the door behind them as they were greeted joyfully by their son and daughter.

"Mummy! Daddy!"

Sherlock and Molly approached the bed. Their son, a perfect miniature of Sherlock, flung himself into his mother's arms, just as their daughter, a little replica of Molly, jumped into her father's arms. They all settled down upon the bed.

"Read us a story please!" Rory pleaded, curling into his mother's chest.

"Tell us about one of your cases daddy!" Julia tugged on the lapels of her father's suit jacket.

A short time later their two little ones were fast asleep. Molly tucked the blanket around them, placing a gentle kiss upon their heads before moving over to where Sherlock was stood. She put her arms about his waist, and he held her close. They both stood there silently, watching their children sleep.

"Our sweet, little twins," Molly murmured.

Sherlock let out a soft snort, "They're not always sweet … if you would recall the incident in the kitchen last week!"

Molly dropped down her hand and gave his bum a tweak with her fingers. "That's because they are your son and daughter as much as they are mine!"

He reached back and grabbed her hand, leading her from the bedroom and closing the door silently behind them. They returned downstairs, once more settling upon the sofa in front of the fire. Sherlock's father had just fed it a few logs, thus it was glowing brightly. He was sat in a chair, eyeing the fire with a smile upon his face.

"Where are Mycroft and Anthea?" Molly asked him.

"Out, went for a walk," he replied.

Sherlock's mother came into the room bearing a tray of eggnog. "In this bitter cold? Utter madness."

"Probably went for a shag in the barn," Sherlock muttered into Molly's ear, she elbowed him in reply.

They each took the offered glass of eggnog from his mother. Molly sipped hers slowly; Sherlock eyed his derisively, and decided against it. He had never been an admirer of the thick, creamy drink.

A short while later his parents retired to bed. Molly's eyes were beginning to droop closed when the sound of the back door opening and closing pulled her from her reverie. Mycroft and Anthea walked passed the room as they made their way upstairs, their faces flushed.

"Told you," Sherlock mock-whispered.

Molly elbowed him again. Silence fell for a few minutes; the only sound was that of the dying fire, the music having been turned off long ago. Sherlock had thought that Molly had fallen asleep when suddenly her voice broke through the quiet.

"How come you don't ever wear bowties like the ones your dad wears?"

Sherlock exhaled loudly. "Atrocious things."

Molly let out a soft giggle. "I like them, 'bowties are cool.'" She could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

"Your love for that ridiculous show about an alien who travels in a blue box will never cease to astound me."

"Just look at if from the same reason you watch crap telly … I enjoy it!"

He leaned forward, placing his untouched eggnog on the coffee table before kicking off his shoes and pulling his legs up onto the sofa. Molly knew exactly what he intended to do and slid her self forward slightly so that he could stretch himself out. Once he had done so Molly followed suit, then turned her body around so that she was facing him.

Sherlock brought his hand up and cradled the back of her head before kissing her deeply, nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth before parting for air.

"I enjoy your company far more than any amount of crap telly," he told her firmly.

Molly smiled up at him and pulled him in for another kiss. "And you are far more handsome than any of the regenerations of The Doctor."

He gave a weary sigh. "Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?"

"Yes."

"I think I'm going to have to limit your intake of Doctor Who."

Molly pretended to pout. "But Rory and Julia love that show!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Enough!" he all but growled, grabbing her about the waist and pulling her up against him before kissing her again.

He was certain he could feel her smiling against his lips. Reaching down he gave her bum a little pinch, in retaliation for what she had done to him earlier. She squealed into his mouth, pulling away, panting slightly. He smiled cheekily at her as she fixed him with a glare.

"Arse!"

"Mmm … yes, I do love it so." He cupped her bum in his hand, squeezing the tender flesh through the fabric of her trousers.

She could feel him growing hard against her. "Sherlock! We're not shagging on your parent's sofa!"

He pouted as she pushed herself away from him and sat up.

"Then let's go to bed."

She looked at him over her shoulder. "A Christmas Eve shag?" She had an eyebrow raised.

He shrugged. "Start a new tradition."

"You hate traditions."

"Not ones involving sex, I don't."

She shook her head, chucking softly then stood up. When she began to make her away out of the room, but noticed that he wasn't following, she stopped and turned around and looked at him.

"Aren't you coming?"

He jumped up and quickly followed after. "I intend to, yes, but only once my cock is buried deep inside of you," he whispered this hoarsely into her ear.

"God Sherlock!" she hissed, stumbling up the steps.

His laughter rumbled in his chest as he grabbed her about the hips, helping to keep her steady. He could hear her mumbling beneath her breath as they made their way down the hall, passed the room where their children lay sleeping.

Once in their bedroom, with the door shut and locked, they began to undress. As soon as they were both naked he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, gently laying her down with her head upon the pillows.

She now lay beneath him, as he kneeled over her, gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes. His eyes trailed slowly over her. Her body had changed since giving birth to their son and daughter, her curves softening, her belly no longer quite as flat as it once had been. Her breasts were different too, their size had changed and they sagged a bit, but Sherlock still loved them. Loved every part of her.

He had changed as well, his once lithe body no longer quite so thin. Molly's insistence on him eating, even while working cases, kept him at a healthier weight. His once dark curls were now tinged with a faint hint of grey. Molly had told him that she liked it, that it made him look distinguished. There were a few more wrinkles upon his face, they crinkled when he smiled, a much more common occurrence now.

Dropping his head down to her stomach he peppered her skin with kisses before dragging the tip of his tongue along the scar across her belly. It was faint now, barely visible accept to those who knew it was there. Her hand was in his hair, her fingers carding through his curls. He could smell her arousal.

Instead of continuing downwards, as he was often wont to do, he moved upwards, lapping at each of her pebbled nipples before bringing himself fully up until his face was hovering directly over hers.

"Not tonight," he answered her silent question. "I want to be inside of you,  _now_."

She nodded, parting her legs for him. He leaned back until he was kneeling, and lifted up her legs, bringing her knees together. He gently eased back her legs until they were over her shoulder, nearly touching the mattress. After repositioning himself, her folds glistening, he slid his hardened-length into her. He kissed her to drown out her moan as his cock filled her in entirety, the backs of her thighs pressing his into his shoulder.

"God Molly!" he panted dropping his head down to press it into her neck, reveling in the fact that after all of these years she still felt so tight around him, and that he had never bored with the way her body made him feel.

Molly turned her head, nuzzling his face with the tip of her nose. "I love you so much," she whispered to him.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, the pair of them moaning in unison as he began to move his cock in and out of her. He placed his forehead against hers, gazing into her eyes as he continued to thrust into her wet heat. She slipped one of her arms over the back of her legs, right where they creased at the knee, holding them down, whilst with the other she clutched tightly at his shoulder. Continuing to moan his name and telling him how good he felt.

He shifted himself forward slightly, and picked up the pace of his thrusts. He cupped her bum in one hand, massaging the supple flesh.

"So close!" she whimpered, her nails digging little crescent moons into his skin.

Kissing her once more, their tongues dancing together, he took a hold of her hips and began to enter her as hard as he could, knowing how much she liked it when he did this. She was moaning wildly against his mouth, and when he could feel her tightening around his cock he felt his own orgasm hit. They parted their kiss, panting against each others lips. He gave a few slower, gentler thrusts before growing still.

After a few moments of catching their breath he leaned back slightly, making sure to keep himself inside of her, but back just enough so that she could lower her legs, bringing them down to either side of his hips. He nestled his body against hers, loving the feeling of them staying connected like this.

She cradled his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. They lay curled up together, staring into each others eyes as their racing hearts began to slow down to a more normal pace.

"Thank you, Molly."

Her brows furrowed. "For what?"

He smiled, brushing the tip of her nose with his. "For loving me, for never giving up on me, for accepting me as I am."

She kissed him again. "You're very welcome Sherlock."

The clock down the hall began to chime, twelve times.

"Happy Christmas, Molly." He kissed her gently.

"Happy Christmas, Sherlock."

He tucked himself under her chin as she wrapped her arms about him, and slowly they drifted off to sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
> I'm the daughter of a twin so … I like to throw twins into my stories ;) And how funny that I mention Doctor Who in this story when it's my 12th one? HA! And no, I didn't purposely call their son Rory because of Rory from Doctor Who, I actually chose that name because it's my cousins name and I like it ;)
> 
> HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! I love you all! Hope you have a wonderful Christmas and Happy New Year :D


End file.
